A month or so ago I decided that I would become more public about our struggle with infertility. I shared on this blog, linked it to my twitter (because no one that I still keep up with is even on twitter), and let out the secret. We were infertile. April 5th, I peed on the 10,000th home pregnancy test just for the heck of it and an extra line showed up. Of course I didn’t believe it… so since it was my last pregnancy test in the house, I ran to walmart (at 10:30 pm) and bought 4 more tests of different brands, cause there’s no way I could be pregnant. (Even after having taken Clomid and doing everything right…) So I bought the 4 tests, a half-gallon of rocky road ice cream and drove myself back home. All the way praying. I beat my husband home, but just barely. He pulled in right behind me. I raced into the house, snuck to the bathroom with the new tests, stashed the first one under the sink, just in case (I didn’t want him to find it before I was sure), peed in the lovely cup and since my hubs had just gotten home, he was in a hurry to used the bathroom too… so I snuck out of the bathroom with my cup of pee (gross, I know, don’t judge) and I did the two more tests over the (empty) kitchen sink. (even more gross… Don’t worry, I bleached it all after. Stop judging me.) Both of the tests immediately were positive. So there was no way that all three tests, in three different brands, were all wrong. As I stood there, staring at those little pink lines, pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, I debated telling my hubs or waiting till easter or his birthday. About 15 minutes later, I decided that I wasn’t going to keep it a secret. I was so anxious. I think I was like…”So…. I took a pregnancy test… and it’s positive…all three of them…” and then I showed him my little pile of tests. He was excited of course.
For the next week, I lived in a state of constant panic attack. Every single little twinge and cramp would cause me to burst into tears of fear. I was so afraid to lose this baby. I still am, even today after having told our families. I fear. They don’t tell you that pregnancy after a loss, pregnancy after infertility, is this scary. But I trust Him. He is faithful.
I am six weeks. I know, way earlier than most people share their pregnancies, especially after a loss. But I trust God. And I trust my family and friends. Even if the unimaginable, unspeakable were to happen in the coming weeks, I trust that my family and friends will be supportive.
I will carry this baby to term. My body knows what to do. God has given me this miracle. He has answered my prayers. He is good. I will have a healthy pregnancy. I will have a healthy baby.